


What are dead friends for?

by baz_is_a_skeez



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 07:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15505029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baz_is_a_skeez/pseuds/baz_is_a_skeez
Summary: Ymir is having a hard time dealing with Historia's pregnancy, and the fact that she's dead isn't helping.





	What are dead friends for?

**Author's Note:**

> Who else is comforted by the idea of Ymir and all her dead pals watching all the shit their friends go through?? I sure as fuck am!!
> 
> Let's just assume that in this afterlife everyone is the same age as when they met or something so when Historia dies she’s a teenager again instead of like 30 (that is if she survives the whole 13 years after inheriting the titan which...who knows at this point)
> 
> Anyway enjoy this shitty excuse for a fic, I hope it cheers you up before the shitstorm that will likely ensue in the next chapter and murder us all :)

Ymir sat quietly with Sasha, Bertholdt and Marco after receiving the big news. They were in a rose garden today; Marco’s choice. He thought the smell of flowers might relax Ymir, though so far the sweet scent and pleasant atmosphere seemed to agitate her more than anything else. Sasha suggested some great restaurant she’d made up a while ago, but none of them had much of an appetite, even if the food in Heaven was...well, Heavenly.

A long, tense silence hung in the air, filled only by the sound of Sasha anxiously chewing some ethereal fruit that she claimed tasted like _“Whatever Eren feels when he kills a titan, only sixteen times better”._  
  
After a while, Ymir took a deep, slow breath and declared firmly and simply;

“No.”

Sasha and Marco stared at her uncomfortably, while Bertholdt focused intently on his hands.  
  
“Ymir,” Sasha began, “I think -  
  
“ _No_ .” Harsher this time.

“Maybe we should -“ Marco started before being cut off.

“I’m gonna find the bastard.” She stated factually. “I’m gonna find the scum that did this to her, and...” She paused. “Talk. I’m just gonna talk, okay?”  
  
“Ymir,” Sasha warned, “Think about this.”  
  
“Already have,” Ymir replied casually, standing up and brushing herself off.  
  
“Ymir - Ymir, _no,_ ” Marco insisted, grabbing one of her arms. She pulled away aggressively, and he just barely managed to restrain her. Dying really did a number on his strength. “Sasha, help!” He cried as she struggled against him. Sasha shoved the last of her fruit in her mouth and leapt up, grabbing her other arm while Bertholdt stood up awkwardly, unsure of what to do.    
  
“I’m just gonna talk!” She growled through gritted teeth, “Just a pleasant goddamn conversation between two mature fucking adults!”  
  
“You know you can’t do that. The last person who tried to go back got kicked out! It’s not worth it!” Sasha begged.  
  
“Sasha’s right,” Bertholdt added hesitantly, “Ghosts are so rare, you probably won’t make it down even if you try. If they throw you out, you’ll never see Historia again.”  
  
“I don’t care, long as I get to castrate the motherfucker that did this, they can throw me wherever they want!”  
  
Bertholdt and Marco cringed at the comment, and Sasha resisted the urge to laugh while still maintaining a firm grip on Ymir’s arm.  
  
“Think about Historia,” Marco instructed, “Imagine how sad she’ll be if she gets here and you’re not here! She’ll feel way worse than she does now, right?”  
  
Ymir stopped abruptly.  
  
“Shit,” she muttered bitterly, cursing her weak will.  
  
She shook them off and furiously kicked a rose bush, causing a flock of unnaturally bright butterflies to burst out of it like cheap confetti.  
  
“Why is this place so fucking _happy_?” She snapped. “Why can’t I punch a hornet’s nest or something?”  
  
Marco sighed. “I know this isn’t easy, Ymir, I do. Seeing our friends go through this stuff has been hard on all of us, you know? I think maybe we should all just calm down and be rational.”  
  
_“Rational?_ ” Ymir repeated incredulously, “What, exactly, do you consider to be _rational_ in this bitch of a situation? My soulmate is knocked up, she’s being treated like a _literal breeding machine!_ ” She yelled, disgust heavy in her tone. “There’s no way I can accept this!”  
  
She sat down angrily on an infuriatingly beautiful bench made of diamonds, or pearls, or some kind of weird heavenly material. Ymir wanted to break it.  
  
“This is bullshit.” She said plainly. “Absolute fucking bullshit.”  
  
“I know,” Sasha responded grimly. “Historia’s my friend too, I hate this just as much as you do.”  
  
“She just looks so _...sad_.” She croaked, her voice cracking on the last word.  
  
Fucking afterlife. Making her all emotional and shit.  
  
“She’ll be okay,” Sasha assured, placing a comforting arm around Ymir’s shoulder, which she didn’t push away. Death made Ymir considerably better at accepting affection, which shocked all of them and dismayed Ymir. Still, she allowed Sasha to hold her and laid her head on her shoulder.  
  
_‘I’m still a callous bitch,_ ’ she thought stubbornly to herself, _‘Sometimes a callous bitch just needs a hug.’_ __  
  
“Historia is strong,” Marco said, “She can get through anything.”  
  
“That’s true,” Bertholdt chimed in, “She got through _you_ leaving her, so -“ he stopped abruptly when he received harsh looks from Marco and Sasha.  
  
“Never mind,” he muttered.  
  
“I’m sure she knows we’re watching over her, right?” Sasha said reassuringly, “That probably makes her feel better.” __  
  
“What good is watching over her when we can’t do anything? Things like sending whoever got her pregnant straight to hell? Isn’t that what a good wife would do?” __  
  
“Technically, you never actually became her wife...” __  
  
_"Bertholdt!”_ Marco and Sasha shouted scoldingly. He closed his mouth, wisely choosing to remain quiet.  
__  
“If you were alive, yes, that’s what you, as her _wife_ , would do. But you aren’t alive, which means all you can do is stay here and see that she’s alright until you meet her again, okay?” Sasha said placatingly.  
__  
Marco nodded in agreement.  
  
“Sasha, Bert and I always wish we could go see Connie, Reiner, Annie and Jean, but we just have to wait until they come to us,” He consoled, “We all want to protect our friends, Ymir, but sometimes we just have to be patient and trust that they can take care of themselves.”  
  
“Have you always been this fucking wise?” Ymir grumbled. Marco gave her a melancholy, yet bright smile.  
  
“Pretty much. Sorry we didn’t talk much while we were alive. Maybe I could have given you relationship advice.”  
  
“Eh, it’s okay. I wouldn’t have listened to you anyway.” She replied bluntly, and Marco just laughed softly.  
   
“Who knows?” Sasha suggested, “Maybe you’ll even forgive him. Marco forgave Bertholdt, and he got him eaten alive!”  
  
“No, this is worse than what Bertholdt did,” Marco said firmly.  
  
“Yeah, way worse,” Bertholdt agreed. “Sorry about that again, by the way.”  
  
“No problem,” Marco said kindly before turning back to Ymir. “You can’t feel bad about this. You have to be strong for her, so that when she sees you again, she sees your best self, right?”  
  
Ymir sighed heavily. “I just...I want her to be happy. And I miss her. A lot.”  
  
“I know you do,” Marco said understandingly. “You won’t for long. Time flies here, you’ll meet again before you know it!”  
  
“Yeah, I guess so,” Ymir answered, wiping away a stray tear that managed to escape her eye. “That actually...kind of helped. Thanks, I guess.”  
  
Damn. She was way too nice now. She’d have to think of more mean things to say before Historia got there; She couldn’t have her thinking she got soft after all that time.  
  
“Oh, Hey, speaking of flying,” Sasha noted, pointing to a nearby bush, “It looks like that Hornet’s nest you wanted to hit showed up.”  
  
Ymir’s eyes lit up.  
  
“Ymir,” Bertholdt started cautiously, stepping back, “ _Please_ don’t. Please.”  
  
“Ymir, please _do_ ,” Ymir whispered with a devious grin before pulling her fist back and punching it straight through the nest, laughing maniacally as they were swarmed by bugs that wouldn’t be able to sting them anyway. The impact of the punch itself and the chaos that followed were distraction enough for the time being.  
  
“Where’s that restaurant, Sasha?” She called over the screaming and buzzing. “I’m fucking starving!”  
  
 


End file.
